


As You Wish

by mandjalorian



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Bodyguard AU, F/M, Self Insert, imagine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:08:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23327527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandjalorian/pseuds/mandjalorian
Summary: The Mandalorian is hired as the bodyguard for the leader of an underground movement meant to undermine the last remaining vestiges of the Empire still intent on plunging the galaxy into darkness. With stakes and tensions this high, what could possibly go wrong?
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 22
Kudos: 77





	1. Prologue

“A bodyguard?” You asked in disbelief.

Veru stared at you from across the conference table, stubbornness etched deep in the lines of her face. “Of course, _adena_.” The Karoan word for leader that many had taken to calling you, more an endearment than a title. 

“We don’t have those kinds of funds. There’s still too much left to do, too many still left to take care of across the galaxy,” you argued, thumbing through the papers that beckoned to you from the table in front of you, the numbers glaringly alarming.

Veru sighed. “With the loss of Bemku, we don’t have a choice. We can’t lose you too.” Said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’m just one person.” Your frustration was showing. You couldn’t help it; she’d struck a nerve when she’d mentioned Bemku.

Veru closed her eyes, her own frustration now clearly evident. “You’re the leader of the Uprising, adena. Without you, all would be lost.”

You smiled incredulously. “Veru.” Your tone told her she was crazy. “This is an entire movement, consisting of thousands, maybe tens of thousands, of people. That’s the Uprising. Not me.”

Veru sat across from you now, exhaustion winning out over frustration. “You can’t be so naïve, adena.” Her tone was scolding but gentle.

You sighed deeply. No. You couldn’t. “Look…” You started, trailing off, your eyes focused intently on the 3-D map of the galaxy perpetually displayed in hologram form above the table, your eyes sliding from one planet to the next, representing its people who needed this organization. “I’m not humble enough to think this movement would have been what it is without me.” Veru watched you carefully, as if she knew the inevitable conclusion you’d have to reach for yourself. “But I’m not arrogant enough to believe that I’m the only thing that holds it together either.”

Your eyes dropped to the pages in front of you, listing the encrypted names of those who had pledged themselves to your cause, each line representing another life you had sworn to protect. “I’m one person,” you repeated, your index finger tracing the names. “This organization is held together by the blood, sweat and tears of every man, woman and child willing to fight the power of the Empire, strong as it is still.”

Veru sighed, looking sad. “Whether you will it or not, adena, it is you the people look up to. You are the utmost strength of this resistance. Without you, we are lost. We will splinter and fizzle out. Please don’t let us lose you too. The people need you.”

Your feelings were in turmoil. She’d used the appeal last she knew would work best. Do it for the people. How could you not?

“But the money-”

“For once,” Veru interrupted you, “let me worry about one thing you don’t have to.”

You shook your head. You were running out of arguments. “And if he’s to die in my stead as well? Like Bemku?” Here, your throat grew tight, your words choked. Bemku had been your mentor for so long, and you had yet to rid yourself of the guilt at his passing. Most days you wondered if you ever would. 

“Bemku died for the movement. For the people.” Veru reminded you softly, tears making her eyes sparkle as well under the harsh lighting of the conference room.

“If not for me-”

“If not for you, so many more would be dead.” Veru’s voice grew in strength once more. “Besides, this one won’t die. He’s the best.” She smiled warmly.

You sighed. “What am I to call him?”

Veru frowned then. 

When no answer was readily apparent, so did you. “Are you telling me you hired and paid for a bodyguard, brought him here and never got a name?”

Veru pursed her lips at you. “He’s a Mandalorian.” She said finally.

Finally you were taken aback. “A Mandalorian?” You repeated blankly. You still didn’t think you warranted a bodyguard, but you couldn’t help being intrigued. You knew little about the disappearing people of the Mandalore, but what you did know… They’d been targeted by the Empire, practically wiped out on its orders. So many had fought back; so few had survived. And they had been incredibly strong in so many ways.

“I believe, culturally, their names-”

“Some clans consider names sacred, yes.” You breathed, recalling what you could remember of what you’d learned over the years about the creed. It varied from clan to clan, some foregoing helmets, others identity.

“Where is he?” Your eyes finally zeroed in on Veru once more. 

She moved awkwardly, her eyes shifting towards the door of the room.

Your own eyes widened and your voice dropped to a whisper. “Please don’t tell me he’s been outside the whole time.”

Veru just shrugged, prompting you to roll your eyes.

“Please welcome our guest in,” you said, voice still low, teeth gritted.

Veru excused herself. Now that she’d won this small victory, she’d let the bodyguard deal with your ire instead.

You held your breath until suddenly-

A towering, cloaked figure loomed in the doorway. You hoped you were maintaining a calm, professional gaze but truthfully you were overwhelmed with curiosity. He wore the fabled beskar, a metal that could supposedly withstand blaster fire and lightsabers alike. The metal covered his chest, shoulders, arms and thighs. A matching helmet hid his face from you. A blaster was strapped to his side, some type of modified rifle slung over his shoulder. His boots clanged metallically on the floor as he walked forward.

You’d taken a beat too long. He’d stridden to the table, standing just behind it facing you.

“Welcome,” your voice faltered only slightly. “Thank you for coming.” You introduced yourself, though you knew he knew very well who you were already. The process for his contracting had been long and arduous according to Veru. You couldn’t imagine how difficult that must have been without his name.

He tilted his helmet, and you wondered when he would speak-

“It’s an honor to meet you.”

Your expression must have shown your surprise. You’d expected his voice to match his stature, thinking it would have been booming and deep. Instead, it was a melodic hum, gravelly and gruff and somewhat obscured by the modulator built into his helmet.

You blinked. “You know who I am?” You flinched. “I mean...you knew who I was? Before you were hired?”

He tilted his helmet again. “Of course.” Blunt. Direct. But there was something incredibly gentle about his tone. Unwillingly, you wondered what he looked like. But if he wouldn’t reveal his name, you knew now he wouldn’t be revealing his face either. 

“You ran the Empire off of Anantapar.” There was a definite smile hidden somewhere behind the dark visor of his helmet.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t.” You blurted out, your face warming. “I mean…” You trailed off, feeling embarrassed that he both knew of and seemed to laud your work. “That was mainly Bemku’s idea...” Your throat grew tight again and your knuckles tensed as you clutched the chair in front of you.

“There’s something you should know…” Your voice had grown slightly hoarse. The Mandalorian tilted his head ever so slightly, but you noted the movement. You may not have been able to see his face, but he was certainly expressive.

“Bemku…” You trailed off again, unable to finish the sentence. “Your job...holds an incredibly high fatality risk.” You winced. Well, obviously. “I only mean...Bemku was my right hand. There was a bomb. Meant to kill me. Bemku died instead.” You had to stop talking. The last thing you needed was to lose your cool in front of this stranger and start crying. 

His body language, however, told you he was listening intently. “I…” He trailed off as well now. “I understand.” He said finally. He seemed to hesitate. Then- “I’m sorry.”

You studied his visor, trying to find where his eyes might be, unsure whether it was more respectful to avert your gaze or not. Finally you just nodded. “If ever you’re unwilling to undertake the risk, however...despite the money...you’re always free to go.” You promised. “I don’t want anyone else to die for me.”

You weren’t sure he’d heard the last part, your voice had dropped so low, but he tilted his helmet anyway in recognition. 

“I’m sure you’ve put an overall strategy together with Veru, and we can cover that soon. I suppose you’ll have to be debriefed on our traveling schedule. But in the meantime, please feel free to get adjusted to your living quarters and to make yourself at home. I’m sure Veru told you there’s no need for you to guard me at all hours when we’re on base.” You were too hopeful for your own good.

The Mandalorian hesitated. “She seemed to think it prudent…”

You rolled your eyes and threw your hands up in frustration. “She can be so paranoid.” You mumured. Veru was convinced that someone within the Uprising might be passing information to the Imperials, thereby putting your safety at risk. 

He watched your short outburst.

“I’m sorry,” you caught hold of yourself, smoothing down your tunic. “Well, then I’ll retire to my own quarters to get some work done so you can do the same.”

He tilted his helmet in acknowledgement.

You walked around the long table and just before you reached the door, the Mandalorian was swinging it open for you. 

You blinked in surprise. “Thank you,” you whispered. A slight incline of his helmet was the only response you got. He waited for you to pass through the doorway before trailing you.

You were going to have to get used to this. Within the organization, everyone was considered equal. Everyone’s opinions were weighed equally and everyone was treated with the same level of respect. Having a bodyguard was going to be what set you apart and you were going to have difficulty acclimatizing to it. 

You thought of this as you led the way to the living quarters. The Mandalorian trailed you, his heavy footsteps behind you indicating he was keeping a respectful few feet between you. No one in the hallway seemed surprised to see him; perhaps Veru had been right and others had been demanding your safety. The thought made you feel warm.

You felt your guardian’s eyes on the back of your head. Judging by his background and stature alone, he was more than capable. No doubt lethal. And suddenly you realized something else...something you hadn’t felt since before Bemku’s death. _Safe_. You finally felt safe again.


	2. Chapter One

“Here’s the protocol we’ve outlined for your routine day-to-day. You’ll be alerted when she’s awoken and thirty minutes prior to her departing her chambers which should give you sufficient time to get ready. Here are the times for first meal, second and then supper. Of course her schedule changes week to week but you’ll be provided a detailed agenda at the start of each week so you can prepare any additional security measures you deem necessary. Against my wishes and the better wishes of the council, she insists on continuing her weekly excursion into the town market, during which you are not to leave her side. As you can see here, once this briefing is over, you’ll be accompanying her to her daily training session.”

Veru seemed to say this all in one breath and you marveled at her lung capacity at the same time that you blanched at her last statement. A small, teasing self-satisfied smile graced her face as she looked your way. 

“You can’t be serious, Veru.” It was hard to keep the frustration out of your voice when everyone insisted you were the leader, but your simplest wishes were continually ignored.

Veru only looked amused. She’d given in, you knew, by allowing you to continue going to the market. Which meant you had to accept all her other terms. That didn’t mean you couldn’t argue.

“I’ll be with Selk. He’s practically head of security.”

Your eyes found the Mandalorian’s visor where he sat attentively across from Veru, seemingly taking this all in stride. It wasn’t that you minded the Mandalorian’s presence. He was quiet, polite. There was something almost peaceful about him. What you didn’t need was another audience member to your humiliating training sessions with Selk. 

Within days of Bemku’s death, Veru had commissioned Selk, a security specialist, to train you in the art of defense. You knew how to shoot a blaster as well as the finer points of hand to hand combat. But Veru was convinced Selk’s particular skills might eventually be the difference between your life and death. 

You’d barely improved from the start, and you had the bruises to prove it. Selk was patient, and it wasn’t his fault that your ego was more bruised than your body. The Mandalorian’s presence at these sessions, on top of the rest, would be mortifying.

Which was why you were fuming at the sound of his footsteps echoing in the long empty hallway behind you as you made your way to the training rooms. He seemed to sense your irritation and kept a further distance than normal. It wasn’t his fault either but sometimes you couldn’t help your temper; Bemku used to say it was your worst quality. The sad ghost of a smile crossed your lips.

A slight breeze broke you from your reverie, and now you noticed the Mandalorian skirting around you to reach the door first. Attentive as ever, your bodyguard flashed the ID card that would open the door to the training rooms for you. Despite everything, you had to admit Veru had done an outstanding job improving security on base. 

You gestured towards the far corner of the large training chamber where mats were piled haphazardly high. From there he would have the worst possible view. “Please wait there for me.” An order instead of a request. Because you were sick of being argued with.

The Mandalorian paused in the doorway, watching you in a manner you could only construe as knowing. For a brief moment, you feared he’d defy you. Instead he tilted his helmet in a nod.

“As you wish.” His modulator hummed.

You stared after his retreating form, your cheeks growing warm though you could not say why.

“Adena,” Selk called warmly in greeting as he crossed the enclosure from the direction of the changing rooms. _Adena_. Leader. Bemku had adopted the nickname as a teasing joke, then it had become an endearment; soon everyone had taken to calling you the name, though Bemku had been more in charge than you. Now that he was gone, everyone seemed to think the name that much more meaningful. You no less than anyone else, but it was a heavy burden to shoulder.

Selk approached you energetically, though he threw one cautious look over his shoulder at your bodyguard who had opted to lean against the mirrored wall, hands at his belt. “A Mandalorian?” Selk asked under his breath and there was something akin to distrust in his tone.

“Selk,” you tried to greet him as warmly as he’d greeted you, but the tension you nearly always felt was slow to leave your body.

The warm up was comforting because it was routine and not easily messed up. But when Selk started you on your drills, you knew you looked like you didn’t know what you were doing. Your eyes couldn’t help but wander over towards your bodyguard. You couldn’t decide whether it was a blessing or curse that you could not see where his gaze was pointed behind the dark glazed helmet.

“Focus, adena,” Selk reminded you with a coy grin.

He was attempting to show you a move that required you to use your own momentum during a fight to partially incapacitate your opponent. But the move required you to somehow twist Selk’s arm so he would be brought to his knees. And you couldn’t seem to nail the movement. Selk kept catching you when you ended up being the only one falling.

Selk’s eyes danced, not with mirth, but something else. You knew he was keen. Had been for some time. He was handsome assuredly. And nice enough. But you had no time for that. 

You grunted when you collapsed to your knees after Selk quickly disengaged your attack, twisting your own arm, much gentler than anyone would in a real attack, as a countermeasure.

“If you reversed the arm you’re using, you’d fare better.”

You startled and stared with wide eyes at your bodyguard who had approached from his distance across the large room. 

Selk look surprised at first, then irritated, his cheeks growing pink.

“You’re not authorized to train here.” Selk took a step forward so he was between you and the Mandalorian.

The bodyguard merely stared Selk’s way, said nothing, then turned to you. “You favor the right, not the left. That’s the one you should use to twist his arm.” 

Straightforward words, casually delivered. Then he was leaning against the wall again, much closer than before. You noted he did not return to the corner you’d asked him to to begin with.

“Thank you,” you nodded his way, still trying to catch your breath after that last drill. The tilt of his helmet was almost imperceptible but for the way the light above reflected on it now just slightly to the left.

Selk was still glowering at the Mandalorian. He switched up the drill so you would not be given a chance to try the bodyguard’s suggested technique. Somehow, instinct told you the Mandalorian had been right. 

When training ended, Selk gave you a warm farewell but glared the bodyguard out of the room, though the latter seemed not to even notice. 

Later, at supper, the Mandalorian sat across from you. But he did not eat. He took his meals separately while you were in meetings or not at all. You’d grown so used to how quiet he was. It was a relief really. All day, at any given moment, you were surrounded by advisors, by others. All clamoring to make their opinion heard or to get yours. He, on the other hand, was so quiet. The silence was peaceful, calm. Serene even. 

“What else could I do differently?” You blurted out almost by accident. You’d been thinking on his words at your training session for a good part of the day and had finally built the courage to ask, though you’d meant to change your mind at the last second. Yes, he was your bodyguard, but he was still intimidating. And you weren’t used to being intimidated.

He didn’t move at first. Then, a slight lean forward. And he brought one gloved hand to rest on the table. “Your feet.” His gruff voice started. “You should plant them shoulder length apart, not side by side. The strength you need isn’t in your arms alone. If you use the leverage of your whole body, you should be able to incapacitate even those much larger than you.”

“Like you?” You blurted out again, and your eyes dipped in shyness, and you felt your cheeks go warm. You’d meant it as a joke; his enthusiasm for your question had made you giddy in a way you couldn’t explain.

But then- “Yes,” and there was a warm undertone within his voice and you thought he might have been smiling a little. “And…” He paused, his hand ticking up off the table, almost as if asking permission to continue, as if he’d been unsure you wanted him to keep going.

“Please,” you nodded, bringing your tea to your lips as you watched his visor.

“You should bring your left hand down at the same moment you grab his arm. So the movement will flow more naturally.” He attempted to mimic the movements at the same time, a twist of his right hand, and a punch forward with his left. You understood at once.

From across the room, in you periphery, you saw Selk glaring at your armored guard.

That night, you practiced the move alone in your room, reversed as the Mandalorian had suggested, the separate arm movements almost simultaneously performed. 

The next day you were scheduled to go shopping in the local market. It was the one routine you’d had for as long as you could remember that Veru had allowed you to keep, on the condition that your bodyguard accompany you at all times. You didn’t mind the company.

By midday, you’d gathered all that you’d needed. The crowd had stared at the Mandalorian towering over your shoulder. Whispers about his armor permeated the air, and you suddenly wondered if it had been a good idea to broadcast his presence here.

A hiss and a bang interrupted your thoughts suddenly. Then- three figures emerged from the shadows of a hut you’d thought long abandoned near the edge of the small town. A blaster shot sounded immediately from behind you at the same time that a hand was roughly grabbing you and pulling you. You struggled for a second before you realized it was the Mandalorian who had already incapacitated one of the attackers. But then you were both being tackled by the third. Using his momentum in the fall, the Mandalorian shoved you mid-fall to the side, giving him room to take on the perpetrator. His blaster had fallen useless to the ground.

You surged forward to snatch the blaster up and use it against these men when you were suddenly being pushed roughly back to the ground. But you used your own momentum to tumble backwards and awkwardly to your feet, but at least you were standing. The remaining attacker approached you viciously as if meaning to pick you up and carry you off. Without thinking, you performed the movement you’d spent half the night practicing alone. The attacker must’ve thought you were helpless because the sharp twist of his arm brought him to his knees. At the same time, you were using your right hand, as the Mandalorian had suggested, to jab the man in the throat. He keeled over and you backed away, wondering whether you should run. But then- two more blaster shots and both of the remaining men also lay incapacitated on the ground.

You didn’t get a chance to catch your breath before the Mandalorian was rushing you back to base, his arm tight around your shoulder, his blaster pointed out as if anticipating another attack. He somehow managed to hustle you back as quickly as possible while shielding you by curving his body around yours as you ran. He’d managed to communicate with your security forces as he ran, presumably through his helmet, and you passed a battalion of men running to apprehend the perpetrators.

Veru was shaking when she met you at the secured entrance of the work quarters and took you into her arms.

“I’m alright,” you said, and you were glad your voice was steady. You really were alright. You’d been caught off guard, but the Mandalorian’s quick work combined with your ability to fend off one attacker successfully had left you calm more than anything.

“Thank you,” Veru’s voice was high-pitched as she threw the sentiment your bodyguard’s way, and you were glad she suppressed her instinct no doubt to hug him in thanks.

All three of your attackers had been killed, so there was no one left to question, but security would be investigating their persons and searching for their ship. Veru insisted a medic tend to you, though it was determined you were completely fine. You were not even shaken up. Then she finally allowed you to bed with the promise that you would be briefed first thing in the morning on the assailants. 

It was a relief to be alone once again with the Mandalorian as you both walked the long hallways of the base back to your quarters. Neither of you spoke at first. Then-

“You did well.” His tone told you he’d been unsure he should say anything, but he sounded glad at the same time, almost proud.

You smiled sideways at him. “Thanks to you.”

He hummed under the helmet, and you took the sound as one of contentment. 

“So did you,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. And he had. Three grown men who had clearly been well trained. And he’d incapacitated them all within seconds. Veru had chosen well.

He paused and briefly you wondered if he was used to receiving praise because he only made a throat-clearing sound in response and waved his hand midair almost dismissively before-

“All the other drills…” He trailed off as if thinking of the right way to give his thoughts. “You can learn them too. But you need to adjust each one to fit your stature and strength.”

You mulled over the words as you approached the door to your chambers, outside of which he would leave you.

“What are you doing tomorrow morning?” You finally said.

He paused, almost as if unsure and you realized your mistake a beat later. Of course he had to come as soon as you were ready to leave your chambers; that was the drill. He spoke before you could correct your error. “I might be free.”

Your cheeks were still warm with embarrassment, but your lips broke into a smile. Then you laughed. The sound surprised you. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d laughed. 

“Will you accompany me to the training rooms after first meal?” You knew he was obligated to but considering your tantrum about it the last time, you wanted to ensure he knew you welcomed him this time.

He tilted his helmet. “As you wish.”

As he turned to go and you closed your door, the three words brought yet another pleasant flush to your cheeks.

Early the next morning, the doors to the training room hissed open revealing it to be empty. The Mandalorian followed you in slowly, glanced your way, then began walking towards the far corner.

“Wait-“ You called after him.

He turned to watch you, a question somehow clear in the tilt of his visor.

“Will you-“ Your cheeks warmed yet again as the gaze you’d somehow still not grown used to pierced your way. And you considered for the first time that he might not be open to your request. “Will _you_ train me?”

He took a tentative step your way; if you didn’t know any better you would think he was pleased. You held your breath as you waited for him to say the three words you’d hoped he might. He didn’t disappoint.


End file.
